


The Small Things That Are Wrong

by NMTD



Category: One Piece
Genre: Depiction of Depression, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26238079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NMTD/pseuds/NMTD
Summary: Sanji's life was perfect. He had everything he ever wanted. And if life was perfect, then there was only one reason why things went wrong.  One Shot.
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 15
Kudos: 63





	The Small Things That Are Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: Depiction of depression.
> 
> I've always been way too dependent on dialogues in my writing, so this time I figured I'd try to write something without dialogues all together.

Sanji's life was pretty much perfect. He had a loving (although small) family, the best group of friends anyone can hope for, married the love of his life, and worked his dream job. He had everything he could think of that he wanted in life, and if anything else came up in the future, he'd just make it happen too. He should be the last person in the world to feel this nagging discontentment, yet here it was.

It started out small enough, just a feeling of being a little tired. Maybe it was a shift that had one too many idiotic customer, or a night where Zoro snored too loudly and woke him up a couple of times. It was something so insignificant that he couldn't even remember why he was tired, and he was sure getting a good night's sleep would fix it in no time.

Except it didn't, or more accurately, he couldn't get a good night's sleep. He got a pair of earplugs to make sure the Marimo's snoring wouldn't interfere with his sleep, and they only served to keep him awake. They were tight and uncomfortable. They made loud squishy noises whenever they came in contact with the pillow, which was the whole time because Sanji was a side sleeper. In short, they were even worse than the snoring that Sanji was used to. He took them off a couple hours into the night. By then he was frustrated that he was already a couple hours short for his plan, and that kept him awake for a couple more hours, which made him even more frustrated. Soon it was daybreak.

It wasn't a big deal. He used to pull all-nighters all the time and went in to work the morning shift just the same. Nothing a cup of strong coffee can't fix. He pulled his irritated self out of bed and got ready for the day.

But as the hours turned into days, Sanji's fatigue only worsened. The little "extra" things he loved to do to give life his personal touch were starting to feel tedious. The compliment to the beautiful lady as he served her plate became forced. The fresh morning run along the beach before breakfast left him drained. It took a conscious effort not to lose his temper at Zeff for yelling a bit too loudly at the new cooks. Even responding to Zoro's questions, to make sure the man knew he was appreciated, felt like a chore.

Slowly, he found himself not wanting to reply or even finish reading Nami's long complaints of Luffy's latest mischief. He found himself forgetting if he had just added a spoon of salt while cooking his favourite dish. He found himself biting the end of his cigarette out of impatience as he forced himself to write out the grocery list. He found himself debating if he really needed to pack Zoro a lunch so that the man wouldn't skip it.

Something was wrong, and the moss head must've noticed at some point. One day after dinner, the man offered to do the dishes and told Sanji to go to bed early. If this were the good ol' days, Sanji would've snapped right back saying he didn't want the Marimo messing in his kitchen, but that day, that day he couldn't make himself care about such trivial things as keeping a clean kitchen. He gave the man a quick thankful peck on the cheek and went to bed, and cried into the pillow under the blanket as he tried to piece together exactly what went wrong.

A few days later Zoro came home with takeout. Fast food takeout. He might as well be telepathic because it had completely escaped Sanji's attention that it was past dinner time, yet he had neither the energy nor the will to make dinner. Still, if this were a few years back, or even just a few weeks ago, Sanji would've dealt him a hard kick to the head and made him promise to never bring that crap home. Then he would've tried to salvage any nutritious parts of the junk food with his own touch of magic. But that day he didn't have a touch of magic. That day they ate the fast food as it was.

That day, the taste of paper-dry poorly seasoned chicken stayed in Sanji's mouth deep into the night. He lay awake trying to figure out where his conviction had gone, his conviction of always keeping the self-denying idiot properly fed. He looked to Zoro's turned back and muttered an apology, and the moss head turned around to wrap his muscular arms around Sanji and pressed the blond to his chest.

They stayed like this for a while, and then Zoro initiated sex. It reminded Sanji that this was also something they hadn't done in a few weeks, maybe even months. He understood it to be the brute's way of trying to pull the old Sanji out of this new black and white shell, so although he wasn't in the mood, Sanji let Zoro do as he pleased.

He regretted his decision the next day when he woke up to find that it was nearly noon, and that he had missed most of his shift. Zoro had left him a text saying he had called Zeff and taken the day off for him. He stared at the text for a long time, wondering if the idiot had gone to his physically demanding work of a cop skipping both breakfast and lunch. He debated long and hard about whether he should get up and do something about it. The answer was of course that he should, but soon it was past lunch time, and he buried his head under the pillow for the afternoon.

Sanji woke up to the sounds of hushed voices from the living room speculating on what exactly was going on with him. His father was dropping by after closing time with some food. He didn't know what was wrong with himself either, and not wanting to be confronted with such complicated questions, he quietly locked the door to the bedroom.

That night Sanji found Zoro sleeping on the couch of his own home with his uniform coat for a blanket in the middle of the night. Guilt overtook him, and he wondered if the man would have a better life without him.

This sucked, he found himself thinking. _Life_ sucked.

But then he had to correct himself. Life didn't suck. His life was perfect. He had everything he ever wanted. And if life was perfect, then there was only one reason why things went wrong.

 _He_ sucked.


End file.
